


keep breathing (i can't do this alone)

by pinkgrapefruit



Series: e l e v e n [6]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, exit music (for a film) - radiohead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 09:05:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18385301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkgrapefruit/pseuds/pinkgrapefruit
Summary: He could have endless confidence in her but he’d still be just a little scared of what was to come.(or episode six requires a moment to themselves)





	keep breathing (i can't do this alone)

**Author's Note:**

> The lack of content from the show has really made me take this places - I hope you'll all come with me for the ride. As usual, all work is my own and although this is based on real people, both the characters and the story are my own interpretation and therefore fully fabricated. Enjoy! x

Brooke looked up the second he heard queens coming down the hall. 

 

For the last fifteen minutes, he had been twiddling his pipe around his fingers - the energy he wanted to spend agonising over  _ her _ , channelling itself into the frantic motion. It was so blindingly obvious that, at one point, A’keria removed it from his grasp altogether. She returned it mere minutes later though when he started tapping his heels on the hard floors. His eyes had been periodically watering since he’d watched Vanjie’s own tears fall, hours earlier. And god, he hoped to never see the same look of defeat on her face again - prayed to the gods of drag she’d never have to lipsync. He didn't know what he’d do if she did.

 

She’d appeared with her eyes trained on the ground. A smile was drawn prettily on her face but the red lips seemed contorted unnaturally. Like a mask. ‘Whats the tea y’all’ came Shuga’s voice from what felt like miles away. Her New-York accent rebounded off the four walls around and passed him by. 

 

He looked at her, eyes communicating what he couldn't say and wordlessly they both stood up. Without so much as a glance in the other girl direction, Brooke let Vanjie lead him outside. He let her pin him to the wall and kiss him hungrily. Kiss him like the fire in her belly was damping and he was the only one that could keep it burning. Kiss him like she didn't know if there would be tomorrow. 

 

The truth was, he couldn’t say if there would be one. She had done well in the challenge, astronomically even. They both knew she’d carried her team in the day's competition, but he could feel her frustration over her outfit. He knew that she was stressed, had seen her breakdown about it in the werkroom - although he'd been limited by the air of privacy they were trying to maintain. Silky and A’keria had been wonderful, had encouraged her through the worst of it - but that didn't stop him from wishing he was the one that had wiped the tears from her face. Held her like he did when they were alone.

 

At some point, they’d stopped kissing. They were just frozen there, her breathing heavy, face barely an inch from his, breath tickling his nose. Him - barely breathing at all. She slowly lowered herself from where she’d been standing on her toes to rest her face delicately on his chest. He was quite sure her own chest would be flushed under the gold paint, layered to cover the tattoo he’d grown to love. The one he’d never grow tired of bruising blue at night and kissing gently on those mornings when they were finally in the same bed. 

 

It was here, she began to cry. It was muffled and there were no tears (as if her body knew this face couldn't be ruined today), but the subtle heave of her torso and the gentle kneading of her fists into his gown made him certain. They didn’t need to talk about it, neither could make this better. Instead, Brooke just lit a cigarette and prayed to whatever god would listen to him, that he didn't have to let her go. He couldn't do this alone.

 

As he put out his cigarette on the wall behind him, he slowly rubbed circles into her back. ‘Breathe baby _ ’ _ came a voice she didn't know he had in him. It was warm and soft and dripped like melted butter down her neck. It sounded like showers after weeks of baking heat: like fresh snow and daisy chains and fresh linens. She took a second to mirror him as he encouraged her. ‘Keep breathing, come on you can do it’. Taking one last, deep clean breath, she forced herself to step away. 

 

Without checking, she knew her makeup was probably a mess. Her lips had moved with a fervour that had shifted some gold pigment onto Brooke’s cheekbones so God help the rest of her face. Her lipstick was almost surely anywhere but her lips.

 

She still didn't trust herself to speak, convinced that if she opened her mouth all he’d hear would be her pained sobs. Rather, she fluttered her lashes at him, hoped he’d make out what she needed him to know from the wreckage of her face. He did and, like he’d followed her out, he followed her back in. They made a stop by the mirrors at the back to try and erase the evidence of their rendezvous. Logically, despite the lack of cameras in the backlot, the cameras in the studio had almost certainly picked up on their absence. However, despite this, the naive hope that no one would notice kept with them.

  
As they reintegrated themselves into the conversations around them - including one moment where she had become so bored with the conversation her only answer was to shout  **‘BURN THE WIGS’** \- Brooke took a second to truly look at Vanessa. To memorise the contours of her face, the lines of her eyes and shape of her nose. He could have endless confidence in her but he’d still be just a little scared of what was to come. He  _ needed _ her to stay.  _ He couldn't do this alone. _

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed it! if you've got any feedback/ constructive criticism you can catch me in the comments here or over on tumblr @pink-grapefruit-cafe. I love you all and your feedback truly motivates me to keep writing xx


End file.
